My husband: the best example of a good father

My husband, Jonathan, is a wonderful father. Just like I knew he would be.  I had witnessed firsthand his relationships with his four nephews and two nieces while we were dating. In fact, two of them “chaperoned” us on our first date when we took them to see a kiddie movie. I had also seen the relationship Jonathan had with his own father, Dean, who is a great father in his own right.

We had the kid conversation early in our relationship and were both in agreement that we wanted at least one, but preferably two. Jonathan didn’t care if we had boys, girls or one of each. I always wanted one of each but thought we would ultimately be blessed with two boys.

Jonathan started taking care of his babies before they were born by taking care of me. He kept me calm when I freaked out to learn that we were expecting our first child so soon after deciding that we were ready. He handled my mood swings and cravings like a champ. He even convinced McDonald’s to sell him a case of their sweet and sour sauce because it was one of my cravings and should have bought stock in Sonic due to the many cranberry juice slushes I drank while I was pregnant. Continue reading “My husband: the best example of a good father”

A Walk In The Rain

“A Walk In The Rain” Free Verse Poetry, August 2016/March 2017

She went for a walk in the rain
With barely enough light to see
The mist baptizing her favorite path.

She couldn’t escape the pain
Without causing much more
So she retreated to her abandoned door.

Once inside, the walls entombed her
And trapped her as they moved,
Revealing the family she’d left behind.

Trapped within the rose-printed wallpaper,
She stood in silent perfection
In thorns that drew no blood.

She went for a walk in the rain
To clear her overwhelmed mind
From burdens drowning in her wrath.

She dropped to her knees and prayed
For forgiveness and solitude;
Watched her children while they played.

They never missed her,
Or knew the sacrifices she made.

-Brandi Easterling Collins

Under Pressure

“Under Pressure” Pencil. 2000. (I covered up a section to avoid identifying a person.)

Being a mother is stressful. So is being a wife. And being a woman in general. I try so hard to be good at my many jobs and wear many hats, but most of the time I feel like I’m juggling and the joke’s on me because I can’t juggle. I put a lot of pressure on myself.

I’ve wanted to be married and be a mom for as long as I can remember. When I was in high school, I dreamed of falling in love, getting married, and having children right away. I couldn’t imagine not having children soon after getting married because I didn’t think I would be able to maintain enough conversation with a guy who would choose to be with me. I was so clueless. It sounds silly now because my favorite person to talk to is my husband, and only about half of our conversations are about our children. Continue reading “Under Pressure”